“ Creation could repeat, yet would be loth Us to abolish, lest the Adversary Triumph, and say; “Fickle their state whom God Most favours; who can please him long? Me first He ruined, now Mankind; whom will he next?” Matter of scorn, not to be given the Foe. However I with thee have fixed my lot, Certain to undergo like doom: If death Consort with thee, death is to me as life; So forcible within my heart I feel The bond of Nature draw me to my own; My own in thee, for what thou art is mine; Our state cannot be severed; we are one, One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself. ”
John Milton
Biographical details
John Milton (1608–1674), an English poet, polemicist, and civil servant, is celebrated for his epic Paradise Lost (1667), a profound examination of divine justice, human frailty, and the outcomes of defiance.
His writings, influenced by the religious and political turbulence of his time, also include Areopagitica (1644), a seminal defence of free speech and press freedom. Milton’s legacy persists through his lyrical brilliance, intellectual depth, and steadfast dedication to republican principles, establishing his position as a towering figure in English literature.
Quotes by John Milton
John Milton,
The Poetical Works of John Milton
“ BLESS'D is the man who hath not walk'd astray In counsel of the wicked, and ith'way Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat Of scorners hath not sate. But in the great Jehovahs Law is ever his delight, And in his law he studies day and night. He shall be as a tree which planted grows By watry streams, and in his season knows To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall. And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. 10 Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand In judgment, or abide their tryal then Nor sinners in th'assembly of just men. ”
John Milton,
Poemata : Latin, Greek and Italian Poems by John Milton
“ And golden harvest twice enrich'd the year, Since Damon's lips had gasp'd for vital air The last, last time, nor Thyrsis yet was there; For he, enamour'd of the Muse, remain'd In Tuscan Fiorenza long detain'd, But, stored at length with all he wish'd to learn, For his flock's sake now hasted to return, And when the shepherd had resumed his seat At the elm's root within his old retreat, 20 Then 'twas his lot, then, all his loss to know, And, from his burthen'd heart, he vented thus his woe. Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due To other cares than those of feeding you. ”
